Warm Sands: An Elder Scrolls Story of Khajiit Revenge
by AkhsienTheKhajiitAssassin
Summary: The tale of a Khajiit who will spare no one on his quest to avenge the death of his family. Also inspired by my own Elder Scrolls character! This is my first Fanfiction ever, so don't expect too much, but I tried my best. It's only rated M for gory violence, but that's how I like to do things. It might be awhile in between chapters, too.
1. Prologue

"Akh'sien," my mother said as she held me in her arms, gently rocking.

"What?" said Jo'dara, my father.

"That's his name, Akh'sien." She beckoned for my father to bring her a bowl filled with an odd, Crimson-red liquid. He set it down by her feet - along with a small piece of paper - which she had folded together on the ground that she sat on, in our old home in Rimmen. She reached over and dipped two fingers into the bowl, covering them in the liquid, and then smeared it over the top left area of my furry, gray head and around my ear, trailing down to the bottom of my left cheek, and then she folded the piece of paper and tucked it into my thin linen shirt. Then, she looked deep into my solid blue newborn eyes and said, "Hello, Akh'sien. I'm your new mother, Ja-" Then she was cut off by the sound of the door to our hut bursting open, three mercenaries riding on the backs of Senche-rahts flooding into our home, and the twang of a bow firing the arrows that would pierce my parents' skulls. And the pale white face of the man who killed my family.


	2. Chapter 1

"Eat," said Sa'ra'sela, my aunt, and my caretaker for the past nineteen years, "Quickly, we must hurry." I slurped down the last few drops of stew I had in my bowl and set it on the ground. The long hairs of my mustache were now dripping with the warm liquid, but I quickly wiped them clean, for today, I wanted to look my best. Today was my twentieth birthday. Twenty years since I was birthed. Twenty years since my parents were murdered. And now that I will live on my own, I finally have the chance to avenge them. I finally have the chance to know the name of the woman who died before she could tell me herself. I followed my aunt through the tent we had lived in for so many years; she was a nomad, and I became one too along with her. We also lived with my cousin, Sal'seri, who was a Senche-raht. In my fourth year living with Sa'ra'sela, we had been attacked by another band of Khajiit; I believe they called themselves "Dar-Claws", and Sal'seri had protected us: for he is almost five years older than I am, and much stronger. Sa'ra'sela led me over to a small table with an even smaller plate resting on top. But, the plate didn't have food on it. It instead had two small, golden rings too small for even a kitten's fingers. They were parting gifts for me, and they were made not for hands, but for the long, thin hairs of my still-damp mustache. It meant a lot to me; there's not much to do when you're nomadic but groom yourself and sleep, and at least this benefitted one of those. She picked up the rings and fit them onto my facial hair. We Khajiit don't fancy parties or festivals on birthdays. They are quiet days of sweets and reminiscing. For me, it was the day I became an adult and could leave to live on my own.

"Oh, my dear, dear Akh'sien," said Sa'ra'sela as she caressed my face and brushed through my long hair, "It seems like just a day ago you were just a little kitten, but now you're a full-grown adult." She looked deep into my full, sea-blue eyes, and could barely manage to say: "I'm sorry," before she burst into tears. "I'm sorry about what happened to your parents so long ago. I'm sorry you've had to live with Sal and I for so long, with anger and hatred boiling up inside you all these years for those evil, evil men. I know how you feel. I'm angry too…we all are." She looked over at Sal, who had been laying in the corner of the tent, and he looked back with a solemn look in his big, beady eyes. The only reason he hadn't left Sa'ra'sela so long ago was because he wanted to protect her, and most of all, he needed a home just as much as any of us. She looked back at me, at my gray-white ears, at my long, brown hair, and then back into my eyes. "You know, whenever a traveler walking down the road would pass us, I would bring you out to see if they'd be scared. Everyone was always astonished that you were born without pupils, but you could still see everything perfectly clear. Maybe even better than perfect. You know what? I think you're eyes are beautiful." She paused a moment to sigh; why, I'll never know. Perhaps she was just saying those things to change the subject, but now she was serious. "Listen, do you remember that paper your mother gave to you before…they came."

"Yes, I never got a chance to look at it."

"Neither did I. When those men killed your parents, they left you for dead. That's how I found you, and I took the note. And you, of course." She grinned a little. "I was saving the note to give you today, but…when we were raided a few years back, the other clan took it." She looked back at my "stache-rings". "Those were your fathers, you know? Pure gold." She sighed again. "Akh, I just don't what that to get in your way, okay? That's in the past now, and hasn't Alkosh himself made this the present?"

"Sa'ra," I said as I looked back into her own old, worn eyes, feeling the anger from twenty years boil up inside me until I couldn't hold it back, "I'm going after those men. I'm going to get that letter. I'm going to get revenge on the people who wronged us so long ago, and have been living perfect lives in perfect homes, completely untouched, grooming themselves while we're sitting in the dumps, struggling to survive because they murdered our family and looted our home while we were weak, poor and defenseless! I'm going to hunt every one of them down and kill them, kill them because they so ruthlessly killed us and ruined our lives because those greedy Renrij bastards wanted to be rich! They wanted to live it up while we're dead! Dead!" Now my eyes were starting to water and my eyelids were swelling up. Sa'ra had stepped back, looked me over as if I was a frozen rat that just fell out of the sky. I could see the fear in her eyes, the astonishment at my outburst of anger.

Then, she said some of the last words I ever heard her say: "Be careful. I know this is your life to live, and you can make your own decisions, but… don't get yourself killed. If anything, get them killed. Just… not you. Find a nice, warm place, and live a happy life. Not…this." I nodded, then turned and walked through the flap that marked the entrance of the tent, and headed toward a new chapter in my life.


End file.
